Rose Tombstones
by elfluvr
Summary: COMPLETE Two women found dead in Central Park, no suspects, but one lead who seems inordinately attracted to Alex. Standalone story based in part on Sexual Kinetics and Chanel No. 5.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Rose Tombstones

Author: elfluvr

Summary: Two women found dead in Central Park, no suspects, but one lead who seems inordinately attracted to Alex. Stand-alone story based in part on Sexual Kinetics and Chanel No. 5.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Dick Wolf, René Balcer and the actors who bring them to life. No harm intended, no money made.

Archive: Fanfiction - anywhere else, just ask

Feedback: Please! It's always welcome

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A/N – It's not necessary that you read Sexual Kinetics or Chanel No. 5 before this. The only connection to the two are the crimes.

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Chapter 1 – **Rose Tombstones**

"Mr. Gregory will see you now."

Detectives Goren and Eames got up out of the plush leather chairs they'd been occupying in Brian Gregory's reception area. The financial advisor's offices in Midtown wore a décor that exuded understated elegance, more commonly interpreted as old wealth. The soft leathers, rich earth tones and thick carpets were meant to garner confidence from his rich and famous clientele. Success spelled out in interior design.

The luxury continued as they entered the inner sanctum of Gregory's office, although neither detective was overly impressed by it. Bobby Goren had a knack for being impervious to his surroundings. He was always more interested in studying personal details and analyzing the psychology behind a person's choice of environment than he was in being awed, or disgusted, by it.

And Alex Eames really didn't give a shit. Not that she couldn't appreciate the beauty of these offices, but she was way beyond being intimidated by the outer trappings of wealth. She'd seen too many perverts, murderers and just plain undesirable people being catered to by butlers and chauffeured around the city in their limousines. In her mind, money did not equate to decency.

"Detectives," Brian Gregory rose out of his chair and reached his hand across the large, antique walnut desk. "Brian Gregory. I'm sorry you had to wait."

Goren was first to shake his hand. "Detective Goren. No need to apologize. We… showed up without an appointment. This is Detective Eames."

When Gregory turned to greet Eames, Goren noticed a certain spark in his eye – a little more quirk to his already crooked smile. He cocked his head to study Gregory more closely and thought that women would perhaps find him attractive. Tall with sandy blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a quick and charming smile for the ladies. Expensive suit that was well-tailored and suggested a fit body beneath. _Yeah, he fit the type._

"Please, have a seat," Gregory gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. "How may I help you?"

Eames dove right in. "We're investigating the murder of Lisa Harrison. We understand that you dated her until recently."

Gregory flinched a little at the mention of Lisa Harrison's name, but looked Eames directly in the eye as he answered. "It ended over six months ago. I'd hardly call that 'recently.' Who told you about us?"

"It's just something we found out during our investigation," Eames replied vaguely. She was great at that – pulling information out of others while revealing very little to them. "What can you tell us about her?"

Leaning against the back of his leather chair, Gregory studied Eames intently as he seemed to consider his answer. His eyes trailed from her face, down her body and back again before he gave her a small smile.

"She was a great girl. We had a lot of fun. But Lisa wanted something more serious than I felt for her," his smooth voice was directed totally at Eames. He never once looked at Goren.

"So… you ended it?" Goren asked, wanting to draw his attention away from Eames. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the way Gregory was eyeing her – as if he was sizing her up for something.

Gregory's eyes glanced quickly at Goren before darting back to Eames. "It was a mutual decision. We both felt it was time to move on."

"And who did you move on to?" Eames' question was delivered with her trademark bluntness.

He chuckled, leaned forward and clasped his hands on the desk in front of him. "I didn't move on to anyone, Detective Eames. As a matter of fact, I'm quite alone these days."

Goren reached into his binder and pulled out an eight-by-ten photo. "I'd like to ask… do you know this woman?" He watched Gregory as he placed the head shot of Carrie Littleton on the desk in front of them. Carrie was the second victim found in Central Park less than a week ago.

"I'm sorry, I don't recognize her. Is she someone I should know?" He looked from Goren to Eames with a totally guileless expression that reminded Goren of his days as an altar boy. He knew better than to trust altar boys.

"No… no reason you should know her," he shook his head as he slid the photo back into his binder and rose to leave. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Gregory." Goren reached out to shake his hand and Eames stood to do the same.

"Detective." Gregory held on to her hand as she tried to pull away. "May I have your business card? I'd like to call you," he released her hand and again surveyed her body before locking eyes with her. "If I think of anything about Lisa that might be helpful."

Eames nodded and reached into her jacket pocket to pull out one of her cards. "You can reach Detective Goren or me at the number on the card," her voice held a note of purpose. "Thank you for your time."

"My pleasure," again with that lopsided grin.

_God, could he be any more obvious?_

Goren was sitting in the passenger side of the SUV and Eames slid into the driver's seat before either of them spoke.

"Think he wanted something?" Eames smirked.

He chuckled with an amusement he didn't really feel. "Well… if he's that obvious with all his women, I can't imagine he has much success."

"What was it you once said, Bobby? 'Women respond to confidence'? I found him charming, in a jackass kind of way."

Bobby frowned and Alex grinned as she started the engine and eased out into traffic to head back to One PP.

TBC… 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – **Rose Tombstones**

"So, do we like this guy?"

"He fits the profile," Goren answered Captain Deakins then shoved himself away from the wall where he was leaning. They had just finished filling in the captain on their visit to Brian Gregory's office. "Mid- to late-thirties. Upscale… white-collar job. Meticulous to the point of… of compulsion. Extremely confident, with an over-blown sense of his own attractiveness to women."

Sitting in a chair in front of Deakins' desk, Alex would swear she could feel Bobby's eyes on her. "You really didn't like him, did you?" She had to crane her neck to see where he stood behind her. Bobby spared her a quick glare before continuing.

"Whoever attacked these women has a sense of entitlement. The smallest acknowledgement of his attentions could be perceived as mutual attraction – an invitation." Bobby walked around Alex's chair to stand in front of Deakins' desk. The profiler in him preferred to be in a position where he could see faces. "Rejection would easily serve as a trigger, and a violent rape would be a likely result. But he wouldn't want to admit it was rape. He wouldn't want to be told… he had to force himself on her." He paused to look from the captain to Alex and back again. "If it's Gregory, the overdose deaths would be his preference – he wouldn't want a messy murder."

Alex sighed in frustration. Gregory was a cocky jerk, and Bobby had taken an almost instant dislike to him. She trusted Bobby's profiling abilities, but in this case he might want to admit that, just maybe, his judgment was a bit skewed by the fact that the guy had been picturing Alex laid out naked on that big walnut desk. She knew that look – she'd seen it before. What she didn't understand in all of this was why they had exited Gregory's office so quickly. She thought there were a lot more questions they could have asked.

Deakins saw her roll her eyes and shake her head. "Something I should know about?"

"No," she quickly replied. The captain didn't need to know that she had been considering the idea that Bobby might be jealous. "He could be our guy. Or he could just be a jerk."

"I want to dig a little further," Bobby said. "See if we can't find a connection between him and Carrie Littleton."

"Well, while you're doing that, try not to upset this mutt," Deakins spoke directly to Goren then held up his hand to halt a protest. "Apparently he invests the mayor's money."

The look Bobby gave Alex said it all. He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. Bobby hated having to rein it in just to accommodate a bunch of elitists.

Walking out of Deakins' office, they all spotted it at the same time – a large, long florist's box tied with pink satin ribbon sitting on Alex's desk.

"Some hot date we don't know about?" Deakins teased.

Alex shrugged. She couldn't imagine why David would be sending her flowers. Their short-lived relationship hadn't progressed to intimacy, and for her part, things had actually cooled a bit in the past couple of weeks. Judging by the box, she guessed that it contained long-stem roses. What else could it be?

All three gathered around her desk. Alex just hoped it didn't turn out to be something totally embarrassing – like her father sending flowers for some perceived occasion. How pathetic would that be?

She tugged the ribbon to loosen the bow and lifted the lid. Nestled in green tissue paper were at least two dozen long-stem pink roses – each bloom unfurled to perfection. A gift card lay on top and Alex pulled a hand-written note from the envelope.

_'Have dinner with me?'  
__-- Brian Gregory_

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw Bobby stiffen. Deakins snorted with amusement, "Someone certainly made an impression."

"This has nothing to do with romance," Bobby sounded angry. "He's playing us." Alex and the captain looked at him in confusion. "Both victims were found lying beneath pink rose bushes," he picked up one of the roses then tossed it back into the box. "Tombstones."

"Coincidence?" Deakins furrowed his brow.

Goren shook his head emphatically. "No. The sonofabitch is playing games."

"Well…" Alex picked up her telephone. "I've got his phone number right here. Why don't I call and accept the challenge?"

"No!" Goren grabbed the receiver from her hand and dropped it back in the cradle. "You can't go to dinner with him. That will just feed his ego and his fantasy."

Alex felt a knot of indignation form in her gut. To her, it seemed that calling this guy's bluff was the quickest way to find out more about him and decide if they should consider him a source of information or a suspect. If this turned out to be Bobby trying to tell her how to do her job, she was going to be pissed.

"Maybe a little ego-feeding will draw him out," she argued.

"He fixated on you this afternoon, Eames. That would be the first step." Goren wasn't backing down.

"So…" Alex put a hand on her hip, "he thinks he's found his next victim. Let's go with it." She really was about to get pissed.

The two detectives stood there, one looking just as determined as the other.

"Alex," Deakins interceded. "I gotta say, I'm with Bobby on this. Yeah … step up the pressure and surveillance on the guy. Find out more about his relationship with the first victim, and look for the connection with the second girl. But don't offer yourself up to him."

Her temper flared. It was bad enough having Bobby think she needed protection, but now it seemed he had Deakins convinced she couldn't do her job. What the hell do they think she did for three years in Vice but offer herself up as bait?

The captain must have seen the impending explosion. "You two… my office," he grated out before walking away, expecting them to follow. Once they reached his office, Deakins held the door to usher them in. "Work it out," he ordered then left them alone and closed the door behind him.

Bobby paced to the far wall before turning to face her. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and cocked his head, waiting for her to begin.

_You want me to start? Fine!_

"I'm your _partner, _Bobby. We're paired to work together as equals, not so that you can protect me," Alex crossed her arms in front of her, raising her chin in defiance. "If you don't have confidence in my ability to do my job – if you don't trust me – then we have a problem."

Bobby calmly stayed where he was and took in what she had to say. "You're right," he spoke quietly. "We work as equals, and I don't think I've ever treated you differently." He took one step closer to her then stopped. "I trust you every day with my life. But the reality is that you're a woman, working in a tough and dangerous job. I'm bigger and stronger than you… that's just a fact. Another reality is that I will always want to protect you." Bobby paused and his dark brown eyes bored into her. "If you can't accept that, then you're right – we have a problem."

She didn't change her stance, but Alex felt her shoulders relax and some of her anger seep out of her. "All right," she nodded. "Let me ask you this. If the tables were turned, would you do it?"

Frowning, Bobby ignored her question. "The guy's already killed two women."

"And if we don't do something, it's likely he'll kill more."

"We're _going_ to do something," he took one more step closer to her. "Just not this."

_TBC…_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – **Rose Tombstones**

"Alex? Is everything okay? You've been awfully quiet tonight…"

David's voice brought Alex back to reality from the slippery paths her mind had been wandering. "I'm fine," she gave him an apologetic smile.

"You sure? Is it work? Something you want to talk about?" He was trying very hard to be understanding but frankly, Alex was getting a bit annoyed.

_How can I put this? Some good-looking guy sent me roses today. Beautiful flowers that came with a dinner invitation. How romantic. (Oh, did I mention the guy's a slime-ball – and a murder suspect?) My partner, who I unreasonably hope was acting out of jealousy and not insanity, decided to return the flowers by courier with a hand-written note:_ 'Considering the current investigation, it would be inappropriate at this time for Det. Eames to entertain a social relationship with you. – Det. Robert Goren' _His reasoning?_ 'He won't expect this. It will set him off-balance. I'll go back to question him tomorrow and see if he pays a little more attention this time.' _What the hell?_ _On top of all that, I'm starting to panic over my suspicion that I'm attracted to same Detective Robert Goren – more than I'll ever be attracted to you. Does that about sum it up for you?_

"Really, I'm fine. There's nothing special going on at work… I guess I'm just a little tired," Alex hedged.

David had called her late that afternoon saying that his end-of-day meeting was cancelled. He wondered if she was available for dinner. Alex was tempted to decline, but when she thought about it, she realized she didn't want to just go home and spend the evening alone.

Considering her current mood and state-of-mind, accepting his invitation had probably been a bad idea.

"Dinner was wonderful, David," she felt the need to get out of her funk and pay some attention to her companion. As usual, they were at one of New York's top restaurants, David was dressed to GQ perfection, and Alex needed to lighten up and enjoy herself.

He smiled – brilliant and straight-toothed. But somehow she found herself comparing it to another warm smile. A special one that seemed to be reserved just for her. David was such a considerate, understanding and totally attractive man. What had happened to the spark she'd felt when she first met him?

"Would you excuse me? I'll be right back," Alex rose from her chair to head to the ladies' room. Weaving her way through the tables on her way to the back of the restaurant, she considered slapping herself upside the head to knock some sense into it. She was sitting across the table from an extremely handsome, extremely successful man who obviously found her attractive. Why did her thoughts keep finding their way back to Bobby?

Standing in front of the mirror in the softly-lit, elegantly-appointed ladies' room, Alex sighed deeply. She shrugged her shoulders up and down to release some tension, beat down her thoughts of the day, and resolutely decided to focus all her attention on David Sullivan. He was a great guy and he deserved that.

"Alex Eames."

Her name was spoken from behind her as she stepped into the hallway leading back to the dining room. Alex turned with a faint smile, expecting someone she knew.

She knew him, all right. Brian Gregory.

The smile on her face froze and she felt her spine stiffen. She opened her mouth to ask what he wanted, but choked on her words when she saw the gun in his hand. Keeping the barrel pointed toward her, Gregory put his hand in his coat pocket for concealment and gave Alex a crooked smile. What appeared charming that afternoon, now looked threatening.

"I tried to send you a gift earlier, but your partner felt the need to return it," his voice was calm, his tone friendly. "It's in my car. I'd like to give it to you now."

"Now's not a good time," Alex replied with a confidence she didn't truly feel. "Someone is waiting for me and I need to get back to him."

"Alex," he crooned, "lovely Alex. I don't think that's going to happen." Gregory's eyes darkened and his charming smile turned into a scowl. "There's a back entrance at the end of this hall and I want you to come with me."

Her eyes darted quickly to where he held the gun in his pocket then back to his face. Alex realized that, at the moment, she had no choice.

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"Bobby… do you remember that '66 Charger? Fast back. 426 hemi engine. Four bucket seats. Man… that was a sweet car and you drove the hell out of it!"

Lewis was off on one of his tangents and all Bobby could do was shake his head and chuckle. He'd heard the story of that Charger more often than he cared to count, but Lewis' new friend, Steve, was being subjected to it for the first time.

At Lewis' invitation, they'd all met at Maguire's. It was one of those comfortable neighborhood bars that broadcast sporting events on ten different plasma screens. With a crowd of mostly men out for a relaxing night, no one felt much of a need to censor themselves.

Bobby had stopped home after work to shower and change into jeans, a silk-knit tee-shirt and his leather jacket – the nights were still cool at this time of year. The place was pretty raucous and the three of them were contributing to the noise level. It felt good to Bobby to be with friends and divert his mind from the case, Brian Gregory, and his partner. He needed distractions.

Steve, the poor sap, was actually asking Lewis questions when Bobby felt his cell phone vibrate against his hip. _Fuck!_ He'd hoped for one undisturbed evening. Flipping the phone open, he didn't recognize the number and was tempted to close the thing and ignore the call. Temptation rarely won with him.

"Goren," he practically had to yell into the phone to be heard above all the background noise.

"_Bobby Goren_?" he barely heard the caller.

"Yeah, this is Bobby…" he stuffed his index finger into his opposite ear, trying to hear the person on the other end of the phone.

"_This is Da--d Sull--an_…"

"Who?" he turned his back to Lewis and Steve. _Shit_! It really was hard to hear.

"_David Sullivan… Alex's friend_." There was a pause. "_I met you a couple of weeks ago… at the station._"

A spark of anxiety shot through him. He knew exactly who David Sullivan was and the fact that he was calling couldn't be good. "Yeah… I remember. Is everything okay?" There was a burst of laughter from the group beside them. "Where's Eames?" Bobby's raised voice was about more than being heard over the gaiety.

"_That's why I'm calling you. I don't know what happened to her_." If he was hearing right, Sullivan sounded a little panicky. He knew the feeling.

"Hang on… I can't hear you," Bobby stood up so he could walk out of the bar and get away from all the damn noise.

"Everything all right, Bobby?" Lewis called after him.

"I don't know…" he yelled over his shoulder as he headed toward the front door. "Hang on…" he spoke again into his cell phone.

Stepping outside onto the sidewalk, Bobby was hit with a blast of cool air that smelled cleaner than the inside of the bar. He took a deep breath to clear his head and then focused on the phone call.

"Okay… what's going on? Where's Eames?"

"_I told you… I don't know. She got up from the table to go to the ladies' room, but never came back_."

"How long ago?"

"_It's been about an hour and a half_."

"WHAT?"

"_I waited twenty… twenty-five minutes for her to come back, _" Sullivan sounded desperate to explain. "_I finally asked one of the waitresses to check on her, but she was gone_."

"Why the hell'd you wait so long?" Bobby knew there was something about this guy he didn't like. Right now stupidity seemed as good a reason as any.

"_I don't know what women do when they're in the ladies room_!" he protested defensively. "_They always seem to take so long_."

God, what did Alex see in this guy? "Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"_I've been trying. It took over half an hour for me to find someone with the police who could track you down_."

"Sonofabitch!"

"_Bobby… you know her. Would she just take off_?"

"No." He ran his hand through his hair then gripped the back of his neck. "No, she wouldn't just leave without an explanation. Where are you?" Bobby started walking to the corner so he could get off the side street and flag down a cab – he'd used the subway to get to Maguire's.

"_I'm in my car headed home_."

"I want you to meet me at the station. Tell security you're there to see me," he raised his hand and whistled shrilly to catch an approaching cab. "I'm going to need you to tell me everything."

_TBC…_

A/N – Okay, so maybe I caught a seed of inspiration from everything I've been reading about the season opener…


	4. Chapter 4

A/N – I _think_ this chapter holds together, but if anyone notices a big ol' hole in the story or my logic, I'd appreciate if you would point it out to me. This story will have at least two (but no more than three) more chapters.

Chapter 4 – **Rose Tombstones**

In the cab ride to the station, Bobby called Alex's cell (turned off) and home (no answer). He then tried her parents and her sister, just to be sure she hadn't gone to one of their places. He gave them a story about Alex storming out on her date after an argument, and the guy calling him all upset asking if he'd seen her. Her father actually chuckled about it.

After he hung up from the call with her sister, he started wondering if maybe this wasn't just about an argument and Sullivan was overreacting. If Bobby found out that was the case, and Sullivan was using him as his own private blood hound… Let's just say the guy better not so much as jay walk in the City ever again.

Although, he would much prefer that outcome to the alternative.

And what was the likely alternative? Goren had to believe that it would involve Brian Gregory. He was already beating himself up over the thought that he'd misread Gregory and his entire motivation. Nothing in what Goren had profiled indicated this reaction to his return of the flowers. On the contrary, the confrontation by a male adversary should have made Gregory back off.

_What the hell did I do?_

He made it to the station before Sullivan and immediately called Deakins who didn't hesitate before saying he'd be right there. Goren always admired how the captain could remain calm and quickly re-direct his focus in emergency situations. The entire squad had come to rely on his self-assured decisiveness. Whether he knew it or not, Bobby would need Deakins as an anchor against his own careening thoughts and emotions.

Pulling all the related files off Eames' and his desks, he went into the conference room and spread everything across the table. If he was going to have to start looking for Brian Gregory tonight, he needed to start at square one. He sat in one of the chairs at the table and looked over all the information before him. Suddenly he felt uncharacteristically overwhelmed – drowning in a sea of reports and photos, clues and statements that no longer made sense. Bobby propped his elbows on the table and leaned his head in his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. _What the hell did I do?_ The thought wouldn't leave him alone.

"Detective?"

He looked up to see David Sullivan standing in the doorway and a pang of something close to fear hit him. Sullivan had stood in the exact same spot the night Bobby first met him – the night he'd been trying to figure out Lisa Harrison's death. That night, Bobby had held Alex in his arms and she was safe.

"Have a seat," Goren gestured to a chair across the table.

Sullivan's posture, wardrobe and body language all attested to a man of confidence. Yet, the look in his eyes when he sat across from Goren revealed anxiety and uncertainty. The slump of his shoulders seemed to indicate relief to be here with someone he thought could help.

Bobby pushed away his fear, anger and resentment so he could focus on Sullivan and hear what he had to say. "Tell me everything that happened tonight, from the time you first spoke to Eames."

And David Sullivan did. At one point Goren had the passing thought that he would make a good witness – he paid attention to details and clearly articulated what he'd seen and heard. He supposed that was part of why Sullivan was at the top of the business world.

"What…" Bobby was trying not to feel frustrated. "What happened just before she got up from the table?" he asked after Sullivan finished his story.

"Nothing special. I asked her if she was okay… she seemed distracted tonight. She told me everything was fine."

Making a note in his portfolio, Goren stalled before asking his next question. "Did you two have a fight?"

"No!" Resentment flashed in Sullivan's eyes. "Alex didn't leave in a huff. I wouldn't have called you for that."

He paused to study Sullivan and then accepted that he probably deserved his resentment. "Fair enough," he conceded. "Did you see anyone hanging around? Anyone in particular who seemed to be… watching her?"

"You've seen her. Men are always watching her. It's hard to say if there was one who was more attentive than all the others."

Bobby thought about what Sullivan just said. He knew it was true, but he supposed that after all these years of working with her, he'd gotten used to men watching his attractive partner. It even came in handy sometimes as a distraction from him.

"What about this guy?" Goren pulled out a picture he'd printed off the internet earlier that day. "Did you see him in the restaurant?"

"Brian Gregory?"

Surprise shot through him. "You know him?"

"We travel in the same circles."

"Travel in the same circles… What does that mean?"

"It means we're not friends, but we deal with a lot of the same people in business. Occasionally we wind up at the same social events…" Sullivan trailed off and leaned forward on the table. "What does he have to do with Alex?"

Bobby took a few moments to consider how to answer – he wasn't sure how much he should say. "His name came up in an investigation." Knowing that answer wouldn't satisfy him, Goren moved on quickly before he could press the issue. "What can you tell me about him?"

"He's an investment advisor – well-respected in that regard."

"In that regard. But not in other regards?"

"I never much liked the guy. He's arrogant and… there's just something about him that never seemed quite… right," he shrugged. "I don't know how else to put it."

"Anything else you can tell me about him?"

Sullivan looked down where his hand rested on the table. He was rubbing his thumb back and forth on the outside of his index finger, apparently considering his next words. "Up until about a year ago, he worked for a big investment company…"

"HSBC," Goren already knew this.

"That's it," Sullivan confirmed. "A sexual harassment lawsuit was threatened. He was asked to resign. Less than a month later, he opened his own offices."

"And how do you know about this? Was it general knowledge?"

"No. I…" Sullivan moved his hand from the table to his lap and looked Bobby in the eye. "The woman's name was Sarah Polk. I was dating her at the time."

Goren nodded, writing more notes in his portfolio. "Did you have anything to do with her, uh… her decision to sue?"

"I wasn't convinced that she was truly being harassed, but I told her that if she felt that way she should talk to management. She wanted to take it a step further."

"And what happened with the lawsuit?"

"Nothing. It never got filed," he paused and once again placed his hand on top of the table to resume his nervous habit. "She… died. She committed suicide about two months after all that happened. Once she did that… well, people started thinking that she was mentally unstable all along."

Bobby brought a hand up and rubbed his bottom lip along his finger, wondering if Sullivan realized what that statement said about him. "And is that what you thought? That she was mentally unstable?"

"We… I broke up with her a couple of weeks before that," he admitted. "I don't know what her mental state was at the time."

_Didn't know, or didn't care?_

A new train of thought occurred to Goren. "How? How did she commit suicide?"

"She took an overdose of sleeping pills." With that answer, Bobby got up and began pacing the conference room, surprising Sullivan. "What does all this have to do with Alex?"

"You've been… dating Eames just about three months…" Goren's mind was now racing, puzzle pieces were falling into place and he had a clear idea now of Gregory's motivation. "Have you been anywhere that Gregory could have seen her with you."

"A little over a month ago… we were at a reception at the Met… a fund raiser," Sullivan was obviously curious about Goren's sudden energy. "I remember seeing him there, but he didn't come over to us. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I'm not sure," Bobby stopped his pacing, shoved his hands in his pants pockets and leaned against the wall facing Sullivan.

"But you have an idea." It wasn't a question.

Goren just looked at him. He wasn't about to share his thoughts.

"Look. You and Alex have been friends and partners for a long time – I get that. But you need to understand something," Sullivan was now starting to sound angry. "I intend to build a relationship with her and I don't like being kept in the dark."

The guy obviously didn't realize that he really didn't want to hear what Bobby was thinking right now. "I… understand your frustration. But I can't say what I think might have happened to her."

"Can't? Or won't?"

When Goren still didn't answer him, Sullivan abruptly stood up from the table, his chair scraping noisily across the floor. "Fine. You have my cell number. I'll have it with me at all times. Call me when you know something." Judging by the stiff set of his spine as he walked toward the elevators, Sullivan was royally pissed at him. _Welcome to the club._

Deakins rounded the corner just as the doors closed on Sullivan's elevator car. He immediately spotted Goren in the conference room and joined him there. "What do we know?"

"Captain… were Eames and I requested to be assigned to the first murder?"

"Your names came up. It's not the first time that's happened."

Dragging his hand over the stubble on his chin, Goren paced a couple of steps before turning back to the captain. "This isn't about the two women, not really. They were bait."

Deakins shifted his weight onto one leg and cocked his head, waiting for Goren to elaborate.

"You said Gregory invests the mayor's money. Could the recommendation have come down through the mayor's office?"

The captain frowned in confusion but nodded his head.

"Gregory wanted Eames on this case and he used his influence to get her."

Some of Deakins' confusion cleared. "He used his connection as Lisa Harrison's ex-boyfriend to justify his request…" The captain never did like being set up. "Tell me everything."

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"Bobby, I know you want to blame yourself for this." Goren was pacing like some caged animal and Deakins was trying to calm him down. "But I was right there with you on this decision."

"You didn't do the profile!" Goren insisted angrily. He stopped and picked up the file with all his notes, everything that had contributed to his conclusions. "You… based your decision on **my**…** fucking**…" Fury and self-loathing choked him. Bobby threw the file folder across the room, fighting the urge to punch a wall. He'd found out once before that concrete block was not very forgiving.

Deakins waited as Goren reined himself in. "We'll find her," he said calmly. "Let's start with the obvious places. You want the office or the apartment?"

Bobby closed his eyes and sighed deeply, willing his blood pressure back to normal. "I'll take the apartment."

"All right," Deakins nodded then strode purposefully out to the squad room where a handful of detectives and some uniforms had begun to gather, awaiting orders. "You four… come with me."

TBC… 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – **Rose Tombstones**

5:12 a.m.

Not surprisingly, neither Gregory nor Alex were found at either location. No clues, no indication of what might have happened or where he might have taken her. Goren had even swung by her apartment. At one point over the years, he and Eames had exchanged keys, in case of an emergency, and for some reason he kept hers on his key ring. Something felt right about having her key resting next to his.

He'd never had to use his – she did, once. Some guy they'd arrested had head-butted Goren and made his nose bleed all over the front of his shirt. Eames had gone to get him a clean one while Goren hauled the guy's ass to the station.

Bobby knew as soon as he walked in her place that she wasn't there, he would have felt her. But traces of her could be found throughout the apartment. In the kitchen, her coffee mug was sitting in the sink. A stack of bills and a calculator were on her dining table, waiting for her return. Soap and shampoo still fragranced the air in the bathroom. Her bed was unmade – the sheets kicked down and her pillow still holding the impression where it had cradled her head in softness. Bobby fought the urge to lie on the bed where she slept and dreamed. He resisted the temptation to breathe in the scent of her hair and skin that he knew would linger on the pale cotton sheets. Closing the apartment door behind him, he closed his eyes and gripped the door knob as he struggled against the sense of finality that wanted to settle in his heart.

Deakins had made it back to the station first and was waiting for Goren in his office. Looking as exhausted as Bobby felt, the captain scrubbed at his bleary eyes and sighed deeply. "Bobby, you need to go home and try to get some sleep."

The look on Goren's face must have clearly told Deakins how insane he found that suggestion.

"Okay," Deakins conceded. "At least shower and get something to eat. That's what I plan to do. I'll meet you back here in a couple of hours."

As he slipped the key into his apartment door, Bobby was still pushing bits of information around in his head. Still trying to fit all the pieces together to form a cohesive and complete picture of what made Brian Gregory tick. Even as tired as he felt, his mind wouldn't turn off.

Stepping into his apartment, Bobby was about to toss his keys on the entryway table when he felt a tingle run up his spine and saw a vague something out of the corner of his eye.

"Eames!"

Bobby never knew that so much relief could be mixed with fear. Eames was sitting in the middle of his living room on one of the dining chairs. Brian Gregory gripped a fistful of hair at the back of her head – a handgun pressed against her temple. Her lips were pursed against the pain of his grip and she looked not so much scared as she did pissed.

"Detective," Gregory said smoothly. "We've been here for hours. You should know better than to keep a lady waiting."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the hours prior to Bobby's arrival, Gregory had been casually sitting on the couch with his gun pointed at Alex. They'd come directly to Bobby's apartment from the restaurant after leaving by the back door. Gregory had forced Alex into the passenger side of his car, ordered her into the driver's seat and then gave her the address of where to drive. She recognized it immediately. His only response to her surprise was to say, "I assume you have a key."

Alex actually did have Bobby's spare key. For some silly reason, she liked having it with her. As soon as they stepped inside, Gregory closed and locked the door behind them. Grabbing Alex's arm, he led her through all the rooms to be sure they were alone then settled himself comfortably on the couch with her on the chair in the middle of the room.

She'd struck up a conversation with him, trying to establish a rapport in what Bobby would probably have called 'a reverse Stockholm Syndrome.' During this whole time, Gregory was relaxed and talkative, giving Alex hope.

All that ended with that small metallic sound.

As soon as they heard the key in the lock, Brian Gregory jumped up from where he'd been sitting and stood behind Alex. When the door knob turned, he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanked hard and pressed the muzzle of his gun against her temple.

Considering the situation, Alex was amazed at the relief that swept through her at the sight of Bobby.

"Eames!"

"Detective," Gregory said smoothly. "We've been here for hours. You should know better than to keep a lady waiting."

Bobby's eyes skimmed over her, checking for injury. He paused before responding and Alex knew he was assessing the situation. "If I'd known you were here," his low voice was steady, "I would have come right away."

Gregory pulled up on her hair, forcing her to stand. When Alex winced against the pain and reflexively raised a hand to grab at his wrist, Bobby's eyes hardened and his left hand fisted. In that moment Alex realized she needed to control her reactions if she expected Bobby to control his – he was always so restrained, until suddenly he wasn't.

The fist in her hair let go and Gregory shoved her toward Bobby. "Search him, and put everything you find on that table," Gregory demanded. "Do it right, Alex, because this gun is now aimed at his head."

Eyes locked with his, Alex approached Bobby. His dark brown gaze held hers – intense and full of concern. Giving him a small smile that she hoped would reassure, Alex held out her hand for the keys that still dangled on his finger. Bobby dropped them in her palm and she placed them on the table. "Put your hands behind your head," she said softly and he laced his fingers behind his neck. It's the stupidest things that can make you uncomfortable, but Alex found that she wasn't able to say 'Spread 'em' to Bobby. "You know the stance," came out instead. Bobby took a small step sideways to spread his legs.

Starting on the outside of his jacket, Alex reached up to feel along his biceps, under his arms and down along his sides to his jacket pockets. She found his cell phone and was placing it alongside his keys when Gregory said, "Make sure that's turned off." Alex flipped it open, turned it off and put it on the table.

This time working under his jacket, Alex returned to his upper body and tried hard not to think about all the times she had imagined doing this under much different circumstances. She repeated the process of sliding her hands from his underarms, along his torso and around his waist.

Bobby's eyes never left her. She could hear his breaths, steady and controlled, but beneath her hands his muscles seemed to vibrate with tension.

His jeans weren't tight, but they were snug enough to hint at what was beneath – snug enough so that she wouldn't have to grope his crotch in search of a weapon. Alex reached around to pat his empty back pockets, but when she came around to the front of his jeans, she felt what seemed to be a money clip in his left front pocket.

"You couldn't carry a wallet in your back pocket?" she muttered as she stuffed her hand into his jeans as quickly as possible to retrieve the clip and toss it on the table. She saw a quick glint of what could have been amusement in Bobby's eyes.

Alex felt his taut muscles twitch at the first touch of her hands on the top of his left thigh. Moving quickly, she smoothed her hands along his thigh, around his knee then down his calf to the ankle. Starting on his right leg, Alex already suspected what she would find and it was there at his ankle – the back-up piece he usually carried when he was off-duty.

"Take it out with your left hand, Alex." Apparently Gregory suspected it too. She pulled the .38 out of the ankle holster and placed it on the table with Bobby's phone, money and keys.

"Now come back over here," Gregory ordered.

While her questing hands had been skimming over Bobby's body, the seed of an idea had formed. With no time to think it through, Alex reached over to the table for the keys and the money clip. In an instant, fear clogged the breath in her throat and her heart stumbled as Gregory raised his gun and Bobby instinctively stepped between her and it.

_Shit!_

"Calm down!" Alex glared at both of them before raising the money clip to show it to Gregory. "Are you going to want his money?"

"What…? No!" He sounded indignant.

She took the money clip and keys and shoved them into Bobby's jacket pocket before walking back toward Gregory. "You told me to do it right. Anything that's deemed irrelevant is returned to the suspect," she lied, hoping Brian wouldn't question it or think too hard about it. Suspicion shadowed his gaze as she took her place in front of him, but he didn't say anything.

In a gesture of strength, Alex raised her chin and looked directly into Brian's eyes. Within moments, gentleness crept into the hazel depths. The hard edge that Alex suspected bordered on insanity cleared and gave way to a tenderness she didn't understand. She flinched as Gregory once again raised his hand to her hair. But this time he stroked it gently… reverently.

"He really doesn't deserve you," he whispered.

_TBC…_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N – For those of you who may have read Chapter 4 early, I revised the chapter to name the woman who committed suicide – Sarah Polk.

-------------------------------------------

Chapter 6 – **Rose Tombstones**

_'He doesn't deserve you.' What does he mean?_ Confused, Alex looked to Bobby.

"Not him," Gregory barked in annoyance, but softness quickly returned to his eyes and a gentle smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Although he probably doesn't deserve you either." Reverence once again entered his gaze as he trailed his fingertips along the column of her neck to the hollow of her throat and down the vee of skin exposed by the open buttons of her blouse. Her breaths quickened and Alex swallowed convulsively against the fear of having an insane man's hand so close to her throat.

"That's right… this isn't about me," Bobby's angry voice broke Gregory's thrall. "And it isn't about Detective Eames. This isn't even about those two women you raped and murdered – it has nothing to do with Lisa or Carrie." In the intensity of his argument, Bobby took a step forward. Alex saw Gregory's grip on the gun become more secure, his aim more certain. If they couldn't do something soon, this was going to end horribly. "This is all about Sarah Polk. Her… and David Sullivan."

"David?" Whatever surprise Alex felt at the mention of his name, it was quickly replaced by pain as Gregory again grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her against his chest. "Don't even say his name, Alex," he threatened in a low voice.

"You weren't trying to sexually harass Sarah," Bobby continued as if nothing had happened. "You were in love with her. And she…," he paused, "she was in love with David Sullivan."

"Yes, I loved her," Gregory spat out as his grip on her hair tightened in anger. "And I loved seeing her happy, even if that meant David Sullivan for awhile."

"You blame him for her suicide."

Alex was at a total loss as to what was going on around her or how Bobby had learned all this information since last evening. But she trusted him. So she remained silent as he did what he does best – weaving a story around a suspect that would leave them dazed and confused, trapped in the honesty of their own guilt.

"He didn't know what he had!" The edge of madness was sharp and shrill. "Eventually she would have realized that I was the one who could make her truly happy. But Sullivan used her and when he was done with her… he threw her away! She became so despondent… so unhappy…"

"And you couldn't save her." Alex recognized the sympathy in Bobby's voice for what it was – deceptive. "Then you saw Sullivan with Detective Eames and you, what…? Came up with some sick little plan for revenge? He took what was yours so you were going to pay him back by playing your twisted little game with her?" Bobby nodded his head toward Alex.

Gregory silently glared at Bobby. Pressed so close to his chest, Alex could feel his ragged breaths and coiled tension. _Think, Alex… think!_

"You murdered those women in the same manner that Sarah took her own life." Bobby was pressing hard, trying to make Gregory blink in this risky game of chicken. "But you had to use them and totally humiliate them before killing them. Once you had them… once they were helpless before you, you couldn't control your urges, could you? You got off on having them powerless beneath you…"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Gregory screamed and Alex knew her time had come.

"No, Brian!" She cried out to him. She placed her hand on his chest and tipped her head to look up at him. "Forget about him. It doesn't matter what he thinks," she pleaded. "Look… we were having a good time before he walked in on us. I was having fun. Why don't we just leave here… go somewhere so we can be alone." Gregory glanced down at her in confusion then looked back at Bobby. "I know you want that," she murmured to him.

"Eames." Bobby's voice held a warning.

Ignoring him, Alex continued her plea to Gregory. "Brian, I want to go with you. There's nothing he can do about it. We can leave and pick up where we left off," Alex shrugged. "There's really no need to hurt him."

"Eames!"

"Shut up!" she yelled over her shoulder in Bobby's general direction. "Brian… what do you say? Let's go to your place, or anywhere else you want to go." Alex smoothed her hand over the thick muscles of his chest. "C'mon… I'll make it good for you," she tried her most seductive voice.

"Goddamn it, Eames!" Bobby sounded desperate.

"Goren, shut up!" she turned her head to glare at him angrily. _God, when we get out of this, I'm going to kill him. _Alex slid her hand down Gregory's chest to his waist and ran her fingers beneath his belt. She tipped her chin to whisper up at him. "I'll do whatever you want… as long as you don't hurt him. C'mon, Brian."

"Whatever I want?" That caught his attention. "And they'll both have to live with that knowledge?" There was a gleam in his eye that now confirmed his insanity. "Yes… I'd like that."

The hand that was in her hair slippped down her back to her hip and pulled her against him. "But you see, Alex, there's a problem. He's not going to let you go. The minute we walk out of here, all he has to do is make one phone call and we'll be surrounded by cops."

"No. No he won't." Alex mentally congratulated herself – Gregory had finally fed into her plan. "I'll… handcuff him to the radiator… sitting on the floor. It's no where near the phone. He won't be able to stand. He won't be able to do anything." Somehow Alex managed to smile at him. "What do you say, Brian?"

His eyes raked over her, pausing at the opened buttons of her blouse. She felt the beginnings of his arousal pressing into her stomach and once again swallowed her fear.

"Do it!" he let go of her. "And let's get out of here."

Alex walked on shaky legs to where Gregory had kept her purse beside him on the couch. She took out her handcuffs then turned toward Bobby. "Sit on the floor over there," she gestured toward the radiator. He looked totally anguished.

"Do what she says!" Gregory demanded. "Or the first bullet will be for her."

Hatred filled his eyes, but Bobby finally did as he was asked. She knelt on the floor beside him to snake her handcuffs through the radiator. "Alex," he whispered, his voice tortured and pleading.

'_Please_,' she mouthed silently. '_Trust me_.'

He sat helplessly as Alex snugged a cuff around his right wrist. When she reached for his left hand, Bobby gripped her fingers tightly and in his eyes Alex thought she saw an emotion stronger than concern, stronger than fear – something borne of desperation that she wanted to believe. In those few moments, Alex wished her eyes could tell him everything she felt for him, but she honestly wasn't sure a lifetime would be long enough. She returned the pressure on his hand before tugging away to finish securing him to the radiator.

She abruptly stood and walked toward the front door. "Let's go."

Gregory hesitated, keeping the gun trained on Bobby. Alex went to his side and tugged on his free arm. "Brian, c'mon. We've got better things to do."

Just before closing the door, Gregory stuck his head back in. He kept his voice low and menacing, but Alex was still able to hear him.

"I'll be back for you."

TBC… 

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A/N – Only one more chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – **Rose Tombstones**

Of the people who even considered such things, Bobby figured 50 percent knew or thought it likely that every member of the New York police carried a universal key for their Smith and Wesson handcuffs. The other 50 percent probably didn't know or never even thought of it. He found it hard to believe that Sullivan would be in the second group and thought it more likely that he just didn't care. Sullivan knew that no matter what, it would take Bobby a while to work his way out of this – certainly long enough for him to disappear with Alex.

It took him almost ten minutes just to inch his leather jacket up to a place where he could work his fingers into the pocket and get them around something on his key ring. Once he finally managed to pinch down on the edge of a key and pull them from his pocket, he paused to steady his hand and get a secure grip on the handcuff key – if he managed to drop them into the radiator, he was screwed. With the limited amount of maneuvering space he had, fitting the key into the lock and turning it took another ten minutes.

Bobby immediately grabbed his cell phone and called Deakins who had already made it back to the station. He explained everything to him while grabbing his service gun and holster out of his locked gun cabinet, stuffing the back-up piece back into his ankle holster, and running out of his building to the curb to flag down a cab – he didn't want to waste time getting his car out of the garage. Flashing his badge, Goren told the driver to get him to One PP as fast as possible… to hell with speed limits and traffic lights.

The captain was immediately dispensing teams to Sullivan's office, apartment and Alex's place even though they were unlikely destinations. He was also revising the earlier APB with Sullivan's and Alex's descriptions to confirm that one of their own was being held captive and was in imminent danger. If it was up to Goren, he would have put cops at every hotel in the city and closed down every bridge and tunnel off the island. He reluctantly conceded that Captain Deakins and the NYPD had limits on their capabilities.

Goren paced the captain's office while they had officers checking to see if Sullivan had any other properties in his or his company's name. Storage spaces, rental units, warehouses – anywhere he might take Alex.

"Bobby, will you sit down… or at least stand still?" Deakins was sounding irritable. "You're giving me a headache."

"He could have taken her anywhere by now," Goren stopped near the windows looking out into the bullpen. From here he could see their desks and empty chairs. For some reason his gaze fixed on the Santa Claus mug Alex used to hold pens and pencils. The stupid red and white thing was way too cheery. "Hell, the guy's got money. He could have hired a helicopter and gotten her off the island that way," Goren resumed his pacing.

"Do you really think that's likely?" Deakins was pinching the bridge of his nose. _Guess that headache is real._

Bobby was nervously playing with the keys in his jacket pocket. His fingers found the one he knew was Alex's and he gripped it, running his thumb over the sharp edges of the teeth. Something – some idea – started niggling at the back of his mind. "Keys…" he murmured.

Pulling the keys out of his pocket, he looked down at where they lay in his hand. "Keys." He looked at Deakins with a certainty he hadn't felt all night. "He dated Lisa Harrison. How much do you want to bet he still has a key to her place?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex knew exactly where they were.

They had driven around the city for awhile, probably because Gregory was uncertain of where they could go and not be found. At some point he made his decision and directed her driving. He now held the gun on her as he handed her the key and made her remove the yellow crime scene tape from the door.

There was an eerie sense of silence in the apartment. Lisa Harrison's things were still there, yet it held a feeling of emptiness – as if her belongings knew she wouldn't be back. Then again, maybe Alex was just feeling overly sentimental.

Gregory stepped behind her into the apartment, closed and locked the door then immediately grabbed Alex's arm and turned her to face him. He put the muzzle of the gun under her chin and forced her to walk backwards as he advanced. His free hand came up around her throat with enough pressure to be threatening. When her back hit the wall behind her, Gregory tightened his grip and lowered the gun to place it on the table beside him.

Alex was trapped between his body and the wall. With his hand wrapped around her throat, her air intake was limited – it wouldn't take long for her to feel lightheaded. She didn't have enough room to put strength behind any defensive moves she might try to make.

Gregory was either over-anxious or determined to make this rough. Not even bothering with the buttons on her blouse, he grabbed the fabric and ripped it open, his nails scratching her skin in the process. He rocked his hips into her and Alex felt his erection pressed into her stomach. If she had any hope of stopping this, she needed to make a move soon.

He was biting her neck where it met her shoulder while his free hand roughly kneaded her breast and pinched her nipple hard through the fabric of her bra. Alex clenched her teeth against the pain and snaked one hand between their bodies. She heard him groan against her neck as she ran her hand down the length of his erection. Finding the soft sacs beneath, Alex squeezed hard and jerked with all her strength.

Gregory's mouth and hand released her throat as he screamed in pain and anger. He took a step back before his fist caught her on the left side of her face, just below the eye. White light flared and Alex felt pain streak from her cheekbone up through the top of her skull and down along her jawbone. It had been a long time since she'd taken a hit – not since Vice. That didn't mean that she'd stopped training, or that she had lost her instincts.

Her hand reflexively released its grip and she staggered a few steps from the force of the blow. She now had enough space around her body and enough distance from him to bring her knee up hard into his groin. As he groaned and doubled over with pain, Alex turned quickly and delivered a backward kick into his kneecap She felt the joint give beneath the sole of her shoe and heard his groan turn into a piercing scream. Swinging with everything she had, Alex brought her right fist around and caught him in the temple as he was going down. Gregory collapsed at her feet.

Rushing to the table where he'd placed the gun, she quickly released the clip to check the load then slapped it back in place, checked the safety and worked the action to ensure a round was in the chamber.

Alex stood over him where he lay on the floor. Clutching one leg to his chest with the other bent at a sick angle, Gregory was screaming in agony and bleeding from a cut on his left temple. When she tried to Mirandize him, Alex realized she had a mouth full of her own blood and had to spit it onto the floor before she could speak.

"Brian Gregory, you're under arrest for kidnapping and assault on a police officer." She had difficulty with some of the words – the left side of her mouth was already swelling – and she had to spit more blood before she could continue.

Legalities out of the way, Alex picked up the phone and placed a call for back-up.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Goren, Deakins and about twenty officers were all headed to Lisa Harrison's apartment in squad cars – no lights, no sirens – when he heard the call over the radio. They were two blocks away.

The car Goren was riding in hadn't even fully stopped when he jumped out. Gun drawn, he was in the door and up the stairs in less than a minute with Deakins and five cops close behind. The door was locked and it took two kicks for Goren to break it in.

And there was Alex. Hands steady with a gun pointed at Gregory lying on the floor writhing and crying in pain. All the air rushed out of Bobby's lungs and in those first few moments, his legs wanted to collapse beneath him in sheer relief.

Two uniforms rushed over to Gregory. One roughly turned him over to 'cuff him while the other used his radio to call the paramedics.

Bobby holstered his gun and walked over to her. Alex lowered her arms then turned to look at him. That's when he saw the left side of her face. Anger flared anew and a sick feeling kicked his gut as he took in the bruised swelling, the blood seeping from her nose and mouth, her torn blouse and the scratches on the pale skin of her chest.

He removed his jacket to drape it over her shoulders to cover her, but Alex tried to push him away.

"No… I'll get blood all over it," she slurred around her swollen mouth.

"It doesn't matter," Bobby replied softly as he tugged the lapels tight in front of her. He brought his hand up to her chin and gently tipped her head so he could see the extent of the damage to her face.

"How bad is it?"

He had to swallow several times before he could trust his voice enough to answer. "You should get x-rays… you may need a couple of stitches," his voice still shook. "Do we…" Bobby paused to steel himself. After all she'd been through, he needed to stay controlled, no matter what her answer. "Should we tell them to order a rape kit?" he asked quietly.

Alex sighed and her golden brown eyes softened as she calmly answered him. "No."

His emotions swirled and he once again felt everything wanting to bubble up and pour out of him. It was the same way he'd felt back at his apartment, when he'd grabbed Alex's hand and never wanted to let go. His own torment and confusion were reflected in her eyes and the most he could do was give her chin a light caress with his thumb before removing his hand. "Let's get you down to the EMT bus for an ice pack and some gauze packing. Then I'll drive you to the hospital."

Alex grabbed his arms and that's when he felt her hands shaking. "In a minute," she whispered.

His response was to pull her against his chest and hold her as she bled onto his shirt and trembled in his arms.

No tears. The strength of this woman never ceased to amaze him.

_End._


End file.
